The Marengo changer didn't fight with the ferocity and vigor we'd seen from others earlier. Maybe he was young, not yet at his full strength and wickedness. Maybe he'd worn himself out passing as Marengo. Maybe it was because he was alone, the last of his kind, lacking the psychic support of fellow changers. He had sunk to the floor before Tilde and the old men began to jabber about the implications this had for The Call. I held on, shaking, wondering what insanity had put me here. I couldn't imagine myself committing deliberate murder even though that was the custom in these situations. I felt the changer weakening, losing its plasticity. Soon it just lay there shivering.
I kept that eye on Colonel Theverly every second. His gaze locked with mine. I let go the shifter with one hand, plucked my own silver chain from inside my shirt. I'd brought it just in case. I hadn't wanted to reveal it. Theverly's face changed, but only into a slight frown. "I should know you from somewhere, shouldn't I?"
"Yeah. You should. The islands campaign." I couldn't find a "sir" inside me anywhere.
"Ah. I was there only a few—Three Force. Black Pete's bunch. Sergeant Peters. You were the kid who could find a girl anywhere, even in the middle of an uninhabited swamp. Garrith? Garrett." Shucks. He was embarrassing me. "Did I pass, Garrett?"
No changer could've learned all that. I nodded. The door opened. A butler type with a refreshments tray invited himself into the room. "Damn my eyes!" I muttered. What a clever pose for a mastermind.
"The tea you requested, sir... " Mooncalled's eyes bugged as he took in the scene. The tea service crashed and splashed.
Through clenched teeth I told anyone who cared to listen, "Grab him! That's Glory Mooncalled. He's the one behind everything that's gone wrong." Theverly responded instantly. Unfortunately, the race seldom goes to the one-legged man.
The old man was spry. He was out of there before anyone else made up his mind that I might be right. They were just getting their minds around the fact that Marengo North English wasn't Marengo North English anymore. And Tilde was handicapped by his opinion of Colonel Theverly, who tried to order him to get after Mooncalled.
That old man hit the hallway and vanished into thin air, never to be seen again. Even now I don't quite accept Relway's assurances that the man didn't change shape as soon as he was out of our sight. Relway isn't what I call an unimpeachable witness. But the Dead Man also insists Mooncalled was no shapechanger. However, it hasn't exactly been that long since the world proved that His Nibs can be fooled, too.
No matter. Like Tama Montezuma, Glory Mooncalled is a survivor. But he's definitely out of business now.
We didn't finish strangling the shapeshifter. Once Lieutenant Nagit got a good, controlling choke on the thing and had breath of his own left to gasp out a few words he started lobbying Tilde and Theverly alike. His chatter became a constant in the background, like a ringing in the ear. Eventually, he won his point. His mutiny was excused. But Theverly and the Wolf, having formed an alliance without a word being spoken, insisted on taking possession of the changer.
Both men looked like they had a score or two to settle. Both were wondering just how long this thing had been managing and manipulating the movement. I didn't tell them it couldn't have been more than a few days. Already it was their messiah of misfortune, assuming the blame for every screwup in the last three millennia.
Damn! If they were clever enough, they could gain back everything The Call had lost—and more—by playing the existence of the changer off against rightsist prejudice.
You could see Theverly and Tilde evolving, the way humans do when huge changes in their power ecology occur. I made a small sign to Tama. I let go of the shifter's now-rubbery, flaccid limb. "It's all yours now, Ed."
I grabbed Tama's hand. "Time we made ourselves scarce, darling. Let this family clean its own house. Next time you're in town, Ed, if you've got nothing better to do, come by the house. We'll round up Tinnie and Nicks and go out to this romantic little ethnic place I know." Maybe I could find a place that served stuffed, roast parrot.
"I'll look forward to it."
Tama and I hit the hallway. I pushed hard getting out of the house. Heading across that big pasture out front, I whispered, "Keep moving, woman. Get as big a head start as you can. Nobody else promised you anything." Actually, Nagit had but we'd all known that he was lying.
"You going to keep your promise?"
"I always try to, no matter what. Even if I'd rather not. Because my word is really the only thing I've got to sell." We were moving fast, headed toward the gate. All I'd ever really offered her was a running start. If our paths crossed again, I'd pick up my grudge on behalf of the Weiders instantly. I wouldn't have any overriding obligation to society, as the Dead Man had argued in our discussions of Marengo.
"I'm not much on remorse, Garrett. But I do regret that what happened happened. It wasn't planned. For what that's worth."
"It's not worth much. But I do understand. I'm going to have a regret or six when I look back on all this myself."
"Maybe we'll have better luck in the next life."
"Maybe. See you there."
Tama turned south after we left the estate, broke into a longlegged, ground-eating lope. I turned north. Never the twain to meet. But meet something I did, in just a quarter mile. It looked a whole lot like Deal Relway in drag. He must have been planning a party because he had a whole lot of friends with him. I observed, "I take it you've given up the day job." How had he gotten out here with all these secret police thugs? I hoped he didn't have some dumb idea about trying to raid The Pipes. Those people up there were confused, but they wouldn't be shy about burying a few nosy Guardsmen in the back pasture.
Then my paranoia returned. There were lots of secret policemen and only one Garrett. And I was handicapped by the weight of the world's premier talking chicken. But Relway just wanted to chat.
"Soon as you exposed North English as a changer I knew there wasn't much future in scrubbing his floors. Nobody else in The Call can hold that mob together. I got out and waited out here."
"I never did see what his followers saw."
"That's because you're a cynic and a pessimist functionally incapable of believing in anything bigger than yourself."
The Goddamn Parrot began to snicker like he'd just heard a potent off-color joke.
"Bird, you and me and a roasting pan got a three-way date when we get home."
Relway mused, "Now that it's happened I'm not so sure I'm happy with the outcome. Spared their racial theories The Call would've been good for TunFaire."
He would appreciate their interest in law and order and proper behavior. "Here's a challenge you still need to meet. Glory Mooncalled. He's weak now but he's still out there somewhere. If you don't get him now he'll try to put something back together someday. He can't help himself."
"It's still great day for TunFaire, Garrett. One of pure triumph."
I don't know if he meant that or was being sarcastic. You never quite know anything with Relway. And he wants it that way.
"I liked the way you put it, Garrett. Faded steel heat." I'd mentioned that to him the night he'd discovered the tanks in the old Lamp brewery.
"But the war goes on."